Heartbeat
by SquintSquad183
Summary: My name is Scott McCall, and I am a werewolf. I'm also dying. I'm not upset, like I thought I'd be, I'm actually kind of proud. I'm dying because I saved my alpha from another. I think it's probably the best way I could go. I don't even know if I should tell them. I will at some point. Probably. Contains: Character Death, Pack Feels, Pack Angst. Featuring: Paternal Peter!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! This is a new story of mine.. I don't know why I wrote this.. God I say that a lot.. anyway it popped up into my head (It's scary up there!) and wouldn't let me be. I wrote it yesterday and debated all night almost as to whether I should post it. I know stuff like this isn't exactly all popular in this fandom, but then I decided that I don't care. I'm posting it. So yeah.. here it is. **

**Warnings: Blood, gore, cursing, and future character death. **

**Disclaimer: I am a poor Floridian. I do not own any of the rights to Teen Wolf. **

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I wake up to my name being called repeatedly. It's Derek's voice, and he sounds stressed. I groan quietly, although it comes out as more of a wheeze. If he wants me to take part in one of his midnight training drills again, I will be so _pissed. _Sure.. The alpha pack is coming closer, but if they were to attack, we'd all be too tired from Derek's stupid drills to fight them anyway with how much he has us training. I attempt a groan again, trying to get him to go away. Maybe if I ignore him long enough he might just leave. That'd be nice. Then he says my name again. He sounds scared now.

Wait.. that can't be right. Derek doesn't get scared. He just doesn't. He's _Derek. _He's the grumpy, impatient, shows-no-emotion-to-anybody-ever, sourwolf _Derek! _I feel my heart rate go up. What's happened? Has the alpha pack attacked? Is someone hurt? Worse? I try to sit up, but before I can move more than a centimeter a horrific stabbing pain shoots through my middle. It hurts worse than when Gerard stabbed me. A lot worse. I can feel a moan rise out of my chest and I resent it. I don't like to show my weakness to Derek. My pack. Anyone. Against my wishes however, the gutteral sound makes its way past my lips. I hear how it sounds. Weak. Pitiful.

The sudden pain and the awareness that there are others wherever I am makes me try to open my eyes, but they feel too heavy to do so. So I reach out with my other senses as I gain the vague sense that I am not at home. I'm not at Derek's house, or at Stiles'. I am somewhere foreign to me. I hear the quiet whir of an engine and the monotonous white noise of a car on a road. I can hear three heartbeats, with the exception of my own, also in the car. I could be mistaken, my mind feels a bit fuzzy, but I think I can hear the sound of another car after the one I am in. I am so tuned into the sounds distant and quiet, the sound of my name being spoken again by Derek is assault on my ears.

I'm beginning to panic now. I want to know what's going on. Why does it feel like I haven't slept in years? I can feel the feeling leave my fingers and toes, and a small part of me wonders if I got hit by the Kanima. _No, _I scold myself, _that's impossible. Jackson's a wolf now. There's no Kanima. _I try to force my mind to think in one continuous thought, but I feel it drifting again so I set my senses out for other information. Then I notice the smell.

The smell of iron and rust, familiar to me as that of blood dominates and I can smell almost nothing else. The sheer quantity that I can smell makes bile begin to rise in my throat. That makes me realize something. As I force myself not to vomit, I make the connection as to who the blood belongs to. It is mine. I am bleeding. A lot. I try to sit up again, but I feel the stabbing pain again, worse than before. What's happened? I'm getting more and more confused and panicked as I struggle to think of the last thing I remember. I remember going home after a late night sparring session with Derek.. then laying down in bed. That's it. No.. that's not it.I quickly remember something else. A howl. The alpha pack came.

I can hear my heartbeat start to rise, but now knowing that I am bleeding profusely I'm trying to calm it. I don't want to loose any more blood than I have to. I calm myself as I try to remember more.

I can remember flashes of running through the forest, the moonlight casting everything into silver contrast. I fight with my memory as I pull up the next piece of the puzzle together. I remember fighting. I can remember engaging a blonde haired male alpha in battle. I think I remember beating him. Yes.. I can remember him backing away with scared eyes, now in full human form. I remember deciding to let him live before taking on another, this time alongside Isaac. I remember seeing my packmate chase after the female alpha into the brush. That's all I can remember.

_You remember more._

I tell myself this over and over, as if thinking it makes it true. Seconds later I realize with a jolt that it is true. I can remember turning around. I remember looking for the next threat and I remember everything seeming to become slowmotion. I remember seeing Derek on his back, scrabbling away from the lead alpha that is standing over him. I could smell his blood. I don't remember deciding to attack. I don't even remember attacking. I remember the feel of the alpha's hot blood against my chest. I remember the jolt of electricity I felt as I bit into him, blood filling my mouth. I remember the primal and purely animalistic drive to fight. To kill.

The next thing I remember is pain. White hot pain that makes that edges of my vision go black. I remember feeling the burn of my lungs as every wisp of oxygen leaves me. I remember finding myself helpless, on the ground with an alpha leaning over my chest. I remember his breath, hot against my face as he plunged his claws into my stomach. I remember feeling the agony as my insides are literally twisted and ripped in his savage grasp. I remember the sickening sound of bones cracking accompanied with terrible pain as I realize they are my own bones that are shattering under the alpha's hand. I can recall screaming as he slices his claws through my abdomen and chest. I remember feel it start to go numb as I begin slipping into shock and start to loose consciousness.

I pull myself back to the present as I feel the car slowing. I want to stay conscious as I feel the warm, sticky feeling that coats my skin. I am nearly covered in blood, I can assume, and I can hear Derek and Isaac both say my name again. I give a quiet moan, hoping it's enough to let them know that I can hear them. I force my eyes open, although the most I can force them apart is halfway. I see Isaac give a small smile and he nudges Derek who looks at me. I look for any trace of judgement in their eyes. Any trace of fear, or grief. Anything to let me know how the battle turned out. I can't be sure if seeing mainly concern is a good thing or not.

I tilt my head slightly to see what I can see, and I notice that Derek has his hands on my stomach and Isaac's reside on my chest. I watch as I see my own crimson blood welling up underneath their fingers. I let my head fall against what I now realize is the backseat of Derek's car. I move my eyes to see who's driving. It's Peter, who keeps flicking his eyes back toward me. It makes me a little nervous to feel his eyes on me, I don't know why. Maybe it's because the encounter with the alpha's has reminded me of the first Peter I knew.

I hear Isaac telling me something, probably that we'll be at Deaton's place soon, but I can't be sure. His voice sounds like I'm underwater and trying to listen to something on the surface. I yawn and want to fall asleep, but everything my mother has ever told me about medicine screams at me that if I fall asleep I may very well not wake up. I struggle against the waves of exhaustion that lap at my conscious mind. Up to my knees and elbows now are completely numb. I realize now that my lack of feeling is due to blood loss. It also occurs to me that I'm slipping into shock again. The thought occurs that if my chest and stomach hurt this badly while I'm in shock.. I _really _hope the shock lasts.

I gasp as pain floods my veins like fire as the car jostles to a stop. As the pain peaks, I feel my mind starting to fuzz out slightly. As soon as I am actually able, I attempt to force it back and think as clearly as possible.

The first thing I can hear now is Deaton's voice as he asks Derek what's happened. As the car door opens I realize I was right. There was another car following us. I can hear Stiles and Allison somewhere, talking in quiet, panicked voices. I hear Erica starting to freak out at the massive amount of blood, and I hear Boyd's calm voice soothing her. I try to move. I want to say something to them, tell them that I'm fine. I'll heal. But before I can move enough to cause myself agony, a hand rests on my shoulder and gently pushes me back down on the seat. My eyes snap open to see Peter. His face betrays his concern. Now is when I'm getting scared. If Peter is concerned, more is wrong than I thought was.

Apparently my eyes betray my panic, because Peter begins trying to calm me with what I can tell are half-hearted assurances that I'll be fine. I hear Derek and Isaac return their attention to me from Deaton, who tells them to get me in the back as quickly as possible. I feel Isaac's arms slide under my own to lock around them. I feel Derek supporting my legs as I'm pulled from the car. The blood that has left my body since I've been in the car has made the seats slippery enough for them to get me out easy enough.

I don't like it. Surprisingly it doesn't hurt. I've probably gone completely into shock by this point. I don't like it because there are hands all over me. Derek's holding my legs, Isaac has my upper torso. It feels unnatural from a human standpoint. At the same time, however, from the wolf standpoint It's completely normal. A pack taking care of their wounded. I guess it makes sense, but I don't dwell on it further as pain erupts all throughout my body. My wound, which I can now feel to stretch from my lower stomach to my breastbone, burns like a white-hot iron. I realize that I've been nearly eviscerated, although remembering the feeling of my insides ripping tells me something is worse than evisceration.

I find myself cursing and moaning slightly as Isaac and Derek take a single step. This is agony worse than anything I've ever felt before. Thankfully somebody realizes why it hurts so bad. I feel hands settle on my lower back and between my shoulder blades and push upwards. Now my body is almost parallel to the concrete. As soon as they do this, most of the pain is relieved. I look to see who it was. Peter to my rescue again. I almost snort to that fact. Three times today Peter has come to my aid. I can now remember seeing a vague shape of him leaping at the Alpha who ripped me open, distracting him enough for Derek to pull me away. That's three times. It now seems kind of ironic that my first real act as a wolf was to try to kill him.

I don't know if I lost consciousness again, but the next actual thought I have is that this bed is cold. It's uncomfortable and I try to wiggle some to relieve the cold. Big mistake. I struggle to calm down as the crest of pain breaks as it begins to recede. I hear Deaton's voice.

"Scott.. try to stay awake as long as you can, alright? Don't move and try to breathe steady." His voice is strained, and though I really do try to do what he wants, I feel myself start to panick again. I hear my heartbeat quickly accelerating. I hear a voice pipe up from somewhere behind Deaton. It's Peter again. His voice is calm now, not stressed, but with the definite undercurrent of concern.

"Scott. You need to calm down. Listen to me, okay? Listen to my voice. My heartbeat. Just calm down." His voice makes me want to listen and I find myself tuning into the steady thumping rhythm. I find myself able to speak, if weakly.

"Mhm... hurts.." My voice is quiet. And I mentally cringe when I hear the fear that is evident in it. But it's true. I'm scared. Out of my mind.

"I know it hurts kid, but you need to get your heart rate down. Just listen okay."

"Mkay.." I mumble, and force my hearing to expand, to listen to the heartbeat again. I feel myself calming slightly. It's working. Peter knows it. He can hear it. I can almost see his typical told-ya-so smile as he speaks.

"Just like that. Your heart is more where it's supposed to be now. Just like that." The steady thump of Peter's heart becomes my mantra, keeping me awake, keeping me thinking and in my head. I hear Deaton say something, and I feel Peter start to leave. I groan quietly.

"D.. don't go.." I'm now speaking past the blood that has welled in my mouth, my tongue covered in the metallic tasting substance. But I can't let Peter leave. I know I'll fall asleep if he does, and I can't fall asleep. I don't want to. I'm afraid of not waking up. ".. P..please..." I hear Peter walk back to his spot beside the metallic operating table that I now lay on, and I once again tune into his heartbeat. My nerves calm somewhat now that I know he's not leaving. I don't know why I want _Peter _of all people here, but I do. I don't want him to go. I don't want him to leave me here.

"I'm not leaving kid." he assures as he stands there. The mantra of Peter's heart keeps me awake for I don't even know how long, but soon I feel myself slipping. It hurts too much. The depths of unconsciousness taunt me. Like holding a steak in front of a starving man. I just want to fall into the place where I know it will be peaceful. No pain. No hurt. Just peace for a little while.

I don't remember actually giving in to the darkness, even as I slip into it. The last thing I could hear was the steady thump of Peter Hale's heart.

Then there was nothing.

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**TBC? Or not? You tell me Reviews are much appreciated, thanks for reading, and catch ya later!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:: Whelp.. here it ish. Hope you enjoy. Sorry it's taken me so long. Curse real life and Doctor Who.. *sigh* **

**Warnings: Blood, gore, cursing, and future character death. **

**Disclaimer: I am a poor Floridian. I do not own any of the rights to Teen Wolf. **

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When I wake up, the first thing I actually register is the pounding in my head. It's like someone is pounding my skull with a mallet from the inside out. The second thing I register is that my mouth tastes like blood. That's never a good thing when you first wake up. The next thing I notices is that my back aches. I don't know how long I've been laying on it, but it sucks. After that I try to open my eyes. _That _was a big mistake. I flinch as too-bright white lights glare down at me, making my headache all the more painful.

I bite my lip and try to smell. Sterility. A farmilar smell. As a matter of fact, the lights looked farmilar. While I'm in the midst of putting together the peices and concluding that I am at Deaton's office, everything from comes crashing back. I wince, then I marvel. I should be dead. How am I _not _dead? I was all kinds of messed up last I remember. I listen as carefully as I can, and I can hear steady breathing in the waiting room. At least four people are sleeping, and by a slight smell, I know one of them is my mom.

I want to sit up, but I know it's not a good idea. Yet at the same time I _want _to. So badly. All my joints are so stiff it's painful while my back desires to arch upwards like it does when I usually stretch in the morning. I decide to inspect the damage before making the choice of whether I should stand or not. Wincing, I prop myself up on one of my elbows, and I move to raise my shirt. I realize it's not my shirt, it's too long, someone must have given me one, someone taller than me. I'm not surprised considering how ripped it was and the fact that Deaton would have to get it out of the way. I pull up the black t-shirt anyway, and gasp.

About ten inches from the base of my neck starts a line of stitches. My eyes follow it down to the bottom of my stomach. Why do I have stitches? I knew wounds from an alpha don't heal as fast, but stiches? A voice behind me makes me jump, and the jump makes pain rush through my abdomen like fire. I wince, as I recognize Peter's voice above my ringing ears. He must have been close enough that I didn't register his heartbeat when I did the others. It also could have been that his heartbeat has kept me together for I don't even know how long, but instinct tells me that it kept me alive. I was so shocked by the sudden voice, I didn't even hear what he said. Obviously he realized that, because he spoke again.

"You're not going to want to get up." His voice is calm, knowing, and somehow it manages to calm me. I feel odd. Peter's voice shouldn't feel this farmilar to me. My mom? Of course. Stiles, sure. Issac, yeah. Derek? Eh.. but Peter? It seems almost wrong. I want to argue with him, but obviously he expected that, and he's talking again. "I mean if you _really _wanted to, sure you could. But it would hut like hell, rip the stitches, and probably make you bleed more. Not to mention Deaton would be pissed you got more blood on his floor." There it is, good old sarcastic Peter, who makes his word 'pissed' singsong. And despite my natural objection to anything Peter tells me to do, I lean back and allow my body to go limp against the uncomfortable metal again.

"This is really uncomfortable." I mutter, feeling like a child complaining to a parent, but I don't question it. I'm already having more contact with Peter than I'm used to, so why bother trying to pull back?

"Tough." I know Peter is trying to be serious, but I can't help but to hear the laugh he tried to stifle back. I think it's the first time I've heard Peter laugh. It doesn't sound like him. It sounds like someone a lot younger. Someone who didn't watch his family burn to death. That's when I realize why. Being in the pack again, he finally has something close to a family again. I chew on my lips subconsiously, I had never thought of it like that. I don't even want to imagine seeing my pack burning.. dying. I feel a rush of something I've never felt for Peter before; Sympathy. I quickly force it back and look to him, trying to think of something to say, since he seems to be waiting for me to.

"How long has it been? Since the fight?" It only seems like I've been out the night, with the sunlight gliding through the window, but looks can be decieving.

"About three days." I can't tell if he's serious. I think he is. But that wondering doesn't make me any less shocked.

"_Three days?!" _I wince at my voice yet again. For some reason it sounds scared. Why should I be scared still. I'm still alive, and being alive I'd heal, no big deal right? Right? Right. Then why the hell am I starting to freak out.

"What's wrong? Should I get Deaton?" I flinch, it just now reoccurring to me that Peter can read my heartbeat. It must have sped up. Wonderful. Sure being a werewolf had it's perks, advanced healing, speed, strength, the basics, but it also had it lows.

"Yeah.. I'm fine." I sigh "Just a little bit taken aback. Three days?" My voice sounds incredulous. I hope he doesn't read too much into that. A new thought dawns on me. "The alphas.. are they...?" I don't need to finish my thought, because Peter has caught on, and he's answered.

"Yeah, they're gone.. after we brought you here, Derek, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica all went out and beat the crap out of the alphas." His statement makes me realize that while the rest of the pack went back into battle, he stayed here with me. For me. Because I asked him too. And the thought of Peter not being in battle brings a new question to my lips.

"Is everyone alright? I mean nobody died or anything.. right?" Oh God, please let him say right. Apparently God heard that, and complied, because a smile splits his face. He laughs quietly. "What's so funny?" I demand. Why is he laughing?

"It's just.. you almost die, are probably the first werewolf ever to get stitches, are the worst off in the pack, and all you can as is if everyone else is alright. It just seems kinda ironic." His shoulders shrugh upwards, then fall. I roll my eyes.

"Glad to be of amusement." His voice changes to serious, and for a moment I'm terrified that he has some bad news, when he says something else.

"Seem's kinda odd that you're worried about the alphas.." his voice trails off.

"Why? Oh god, first you, the Kanima, Gerard, the alphas.. what the hell could be worse?" Peter's expression remains grim.

"I'll try not to be offended by that.. but I'll get my revenge. Your mom just woke up." He smiles again as my face becomes that of horror. Oh Lord. He walks to leave the room.

"You know she'll come in here... don't leave me in here with her." My voice is a frantic whisper. If she came in here and saw the stitches.. I almost flinch thinking about it.

"Sorry kid, not again." And he walks out of the room, holding the door open as he goes. He nods yes to someone then vanishes from sight. My mother practically runs into the room. I sigh slightly, wincing.

"Hey mom.."

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**Yeah, not so good. I wrote it while in the doctor's office waiting room and I was bored. Sorry for this fail. As always, thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated. **


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